rang out in passionate sincerity.

"I don't believe it," she replied icily.

"You _must_ believe it! I give you my word of honour!"

"I don't believe it! It's against human nature. You're in love with
her--that's plain. You had opportunity enough. I know sufficient of
human nature to put two and two together. I shall certainly sue for a
divorce!"

"Against a blind girl?"

"I don't care a straw whether she's blinded or not!"

And then, for the first time in all that long interview, Matheson blazed
into open anger.

"You know human nature?" he cried. "By God, you know your own, and you
measure every other woman by yourself! Behind my back you throw yourself
at this damned scoundrel!" He flung out his hand toward Larssen.

There was no answering anger in Larssen. He knew too well the value of
keeping cool. He merely put in a word to egg Matheson on to a further
outburst.

"That's a chivalrous accusation to make," said he.

"It's true as everything else I've said! Last night, at Thornton Chase,
in the drawing-room before dinner, I saw through, the uncurtained
window...."

Too late he pulled himself up short. The irrevocable word had been said.

Olive was now implacable. Her voice was steely as she answered:

"I wish to Heaven you were dead!"

Larssen saw his supreme moment. "Why not?" he suggested.

"I don't understand."

"Let him disappear. Let him become John Riviere for good and all."

"But my divorce?"

"Give it up--on conditions. You'll have your freedom just the same."

"What conditions?"

"Ask your husband to sign approval of my Hudson Bay prospectus as it
stands."

"Doesn't he approve it?"

"No," answered Matheson. "That's why I came back."

"What's wrong with it?"

"It gives Larssen control. It's greatly unfair to the public."

"And just for that you came back? What a reason!" Scorn lashed from her.
"Yes, Mr Larssen is right! I owe it to my self-respect to be
magnanimous. You can return to your mistress--I'll forego my divorce.
Sign the papers he wants you to, and you can live out your life as John
Riviere. Your money, of course, comes to me."

The shipowner, grimly triumphant, said nothing. Matheson, in his blaze
of anger, had turned Olive definitely and finally against himself. There
was no call for Larssen to add to the command of her words.

Matheson's anger was spent. A great tiredness crept over his will. He
could fight no more. Larssen and Olive had beaten him down--beaten